"It happened on accident.. like a drug she infiltrated my body one nerve at a time until there was no more fightin the infection of her affection. I knew it was wrong Dal and what I stood to lose, but she like a fever you can't shake, know wat i'm s...
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13 months earlier April 28 2005
Omniscient
Life couldn't get any better..
DeVante mused as he sits comfortably in his Evan Highback luxury office chair going through applications for new entries into his production school. After a few shaky years he's happy that he's able to do what he loves even still, without judgement. His hands caress each piece of paper with care as he pensively scans each individual name with promise. He fumbles with the collar of his shirt as his grip on the form tightens. He clenches then unclenches his right hand. "Jason Meyers, Brea Canto—oh shit.." He hissed dropping the papers in hand altogether, choosing to caress the head cradled between his legs instead.
The garbled sounds of her deep throating his length has him puffing his cheeks and spreading his long legs wider. "Fuckkkk baby." He groans lifting minutely off his chair. He wants nothing more than to feel her uvula kissing his mushroom tip. Matter fact he elevates a bit more to make the dream a reality.
She giggles with him safely snugged into her homely mouth. Her small hands press his thighs down to remain in control. When he calms she relaxes her jaws, slowly sucking him further inside until she's gagging. He sighed loving the sensation of her throat constricting around his dick and she loves the reaction he gives from it. Her spittle slides like rainwater from her mouth, to the base of his member, and settles on top his balls. She moves them in a circle motion like marbles in one hand. The other is busy stroking and squeezing his base. His head falls back onto the chair, maple eyes closed and jaw tensed as he tries to regain his composure. No way he'd allow her to get the best of him. Regardless of the fact he hadn't had any sexual contact in over five months —a single digit minute man he was not.
Roping his left hand in her soft curls he massaged her scalp before pulling her to his face. Their mouths connecting in a messy tongue tie. The clamminess of her face making him harder. "Bend ova mamas," he instructed grappling then slapping her ass.
She tipped herself to where she was in front of his chair, over the desk. The wide rosewood desk doubling to provide balance. The strokes of his wet tongue and coldness of his ring had a shiver running down her spine. Her knees buckled instantly. "Ahhhh." She moaned a sharp intake of breath followed feeling him hold her steady in place.
Spreading her cheeks he tongued her folds lazily and nastily. His nose tickling her asshole from the motions of his greedy mouth. His lips wrapped around her love as he used the ball of his tongue ring to flick her nub.
